It’s been six months since I lost Lucy. I like to believe she’s patiently waiting at the gates of heaven — ready for the reunion when I meet her again one day.
I still think about this sweet and faithful companion every single day. If you’ve ever had a dog who you loved, you’ll understand.
When I put the key into my front door when I return home each day, part of me still waits to hear the sound of her tail hitting the door as she realizes I’ve returned.
When I get up in the morning, part of me still feels compelled to get her leash and take her for the first walk of the day — something she loved so much. At night, part of me wants to take her for one last walk before bed, because each walk made her so happy.
But I can’t do those things, because the World’s Happiest Dog isn’t here anymore.

Death of classmate from past feels like a reminder to change my life
We repeat what we fail to repair, so I keep re-learning old lessons
I’m slowly learning how to be contented as an ordinary man
I just found out an ex got married – and I’m shocked to feel jealous
Who was this attractive woman? Why did her story not ring true?
Hidden crisis of missing intimacy leaves many ‘together all alone’
I have new book coming about living well in a broken culture
Could we stop being disappointed by just understanding each other?
They won’t listen to arguments; they might listen to honest art